Fresh Air - Remembering Eddie Palmieri / Funk Innovator George Clinton

Episode Date: August 8, 2025

We remember Eddie Palmieri, the pianist, bandleader and composer whose contributions to Afro-Caribbean music shaped the genre for decades. He died Wednesday at the age of 88. Also, Parliament's now classic funk album Mothership Connection turned 50 this year. We listen back to Terry Gross's 1989 interview with funkmaster George Clinton. David Bianculli reviews the new season of Wednesday and film critic Justin Chang reviews two comedy remakes: The Naked Gun and Freakier Friday.Learn more about sponsor message choices: podcastchoices.com/adchoicesNPR Privacy Policy

I'm Jesse Thorne. On Bullseye, we'll talk with Eugenio Derbez. Did you know that he voices donkey in Shrek? In the Spanish language, Shrek. I feel that the donkeys are Mexican, basically. So it sounds more Mexican in Spanish. Derbez. One of the most famous people in Mexico. It's on Bolzai for Maximumfund.org and NPR. This is Fresh Air. I'm David B. Incouli. Eddie Palmieri, the pianist, band leader in composer whose contributions to Afro-Caribbean music shaped the evolving genre for decades died Wednesday. He was 88 years old. His first album, La Perfecta, is credited for launching the musical salsa movement when it came out in 1962.

Eddie Palmieri was born in Puerto Rican immigrants who found work quickly. His mom as a seamstress and his dad as a radio and TV repairman. When Eddie was five years old, his family moved to the South Bronx, and opened up an ice cream parlor. Eddie worked behind the counter as a soda jerk and also controlled the jukebox, which was stocked with hits by Tito Puente, Tito Rodriguez, and Machito. He began taking piano lessons when he was eight

and led his first band at 14. In 1961, he borrowed $1,000 to pay for a month's rent on a nightclub in the Bronx, using it as a headquarters to experiment with various musical lineups for music he wanted to record. He settled on what he called at the time his perfect formula, the band he called La Perfecta, consisting of a vocalist, a small rhythm section, trombone, wood flute, and Palmieri himself on piano. Eddie Palmieri performed and recorded all.

all his life. He won multiple Grammys, including a Latin Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award and was recognized as a jazz master by the National Endowment for the Arts. And there's a treat right around the corner for Eddie Palmieri fans. The new Spike Lee film, Highest to Lois, starring Denzel Washington, has a spectacular chase scene during a Puerto Rican Day celebration in the South Bronx. It features Eddie Palmieri's Salsa Orchestra as the backdrop. In 1994, Eddie Palmyri's Palmyeri spoke with Terry Gross. Eddie Palmyra, you were born in Spanish Harlem in 1936, and I think you were about seven when your family moved to the South Bronx. Were the neighborhoods very similar or different?

Oh, well, they were different at that time. the Hispanic movement was certainly into the Barrio, what they call, and we moved there when I was five years old, and by seven years old, I was already being accompanied by my brother playing piano. He was nine years older than me, and my brother passed away in 88, 60 years young. But then when we moved to the Bronx,

then my father being a genius as far as being a radio and television repairman and plumber and everything you could think had to do with manual. labor. He worked very, very hard all his life. And my mother was a steampstress. My mother arrived in New York in 1925. My father arrived on the next ship a year later. And by 1926, they married. And by 27, my brother was born. I was born in 36. When we arrived in the South Bronx, it was just a beautiful, beautiful neighborhood. And it was wonderful experiences. No cars at all. We were able to play stickball and not worry about any cars in the street.

It was wonderful years that I remember in the South Bronx. What did it mean to you to be Puerto Rican when you were growing up? Were you very proud of being Puerto Rican or just, were you just Puerto Rican and not, didn't think about it very much one way or another? No, no, always quite unique being Puerto Rican because of what I saw, the family being so united. When my relatives all came from Puerto Rico, my uncles on, my grandmother, for example, had an open house policy, you know, which meant that on Saturdays, you would see my grandmother going down to the Safeway A&P and doing the shopping, and plus he would stop at the liquor store

and bring about, oh, six or eight bottles of different ryes and rums, whatever, merely because my grandfather was also a professional gambler. So on Saturday, Friday night, the card games would start, and by midnight on Saturday, there was no. no liquor stores open, and the only one that had the liquor was grandma, and as she sold you a liquor, she would light up a cigar. And then my grandfather was quite unique in playing, so he would clean up, and they would have a house kitty, and on Saturdays, all my uncles would get together,

and then they would take out the guitars, and they would start to sing. By 13, I was already playing drums with my uncle, Chino Gates, Isuala Tropical, because I didn't want to play the piano anymore. I wanted to become my brother's drummer. Now, I know when you were growing up, Your mother really wanted you to play piano, but you wanted to play drums. Let's start with your mother wanting you to play piano.

Why was she so big on that? Well, because she passed the Depression here. And actually, in 1929, she was here already. She arrived in 25. And a lesson was 25 cents, and the idea was you could, you know, try to get the 25 cents. With $1.25, they made a whole grocery shopping. It's amazing what happened in the years of the Depression. and because my brother was already playing piano

and he's nine years older than me then my mother certainly insisted on me to play piano too and I did and I couldn't thank her enough for that Now when you were playing in your uncle's band you were in your early teens what did you play in the band?

Oh I played timbales and my uncle sang my other uncle played conga and we had two guitars a tres and a second guitar who sang a trumpet and the bass player Nicolas when there wasn't enough money to pay the bass player, Nicolas. Nicholas was out.

Now, you studied classical music when you were young, right, on the piano? Well, because of Ms. Margaret Barnes. She was a classical concert player. And by 11, I gave a recital at Carnegie Hall, recital hall. But all those years, from 11 to 12, I just wanted to play drums. So it hurt me from not really getting into the fundamental of the instrument as I need to and I do now. Did you resent having to play classical music? No, no, I just didn't want to play the piano at all.

I mean, I wanted to play drums. And, you know, you have to be, you have to contemplate, like, what's going through my mind. Because I want to play stickball in the street, you know, and the guys are calling me downstairs. Come on, Annie, come on, Daddy. You know, and I got to be playing scales, you know, and then trying to, you know, like, cheat on my scales. And my mother had an incredible ear. I call the mama ear chops. I mean, she could hear.

She said, hey, you know, that don't sound right, you know, an extra 15 minutes. Oh, and things like that. And I was missing the game. And I was the first baseman. And then I had to become the manager because if I wasn't the manager, probably they won't let me play. So when you were playing Timbales and your uncle's band, what was the atmosphere like? You were, I don't know, 13 or 14, and he was playing in dance halls? Yeah, dance halls and up in the Vijas.

The Vigas is like the Borsh Circuit, you know, the Catskills here. Are you playing in the Borsh Belt when you were 13 and 14? No, no, but in the Spanish ones. The Spanish Barst Belt. Yeah, they were owned by Spaniards. time. That was where they call them La Villas. So this is in the Catskill Mountains of New York where a lot of summer resorts are? It's platical, off Newburgh.

Uh-huh. Yeah. And I started working up there in 1950, 51. You know, I mean, it's unbelievable. So what was the atmosphere like? What kind of people did you meet? Well, I give you an idea. When the first day I got there, I saw, I went to see the pool.

It told me they had a pool in this villa, and I went to see the pool. There was a cow drinking and one in the pool. A cow? Yeah. What was a cow doing drinking from the pool? No, no, no, no, I didn't know her name was Elsie at that time, so I didn't, you know, from Borton's milk. The main thing is that that was the cows that gave you the milk. For $35, you could stay a week at the Vial's room and board, and that fresh milk picture was there in the morning.

And then my uncles and my grandfather would love to go up there because they were, they could, excuse me, they could gamble up there. They could play cards all day long or dominoes, and that was their world. And my uncle was booked as the music of the Villazza, and I was part of that. So that was the way we made a living. Did you drink when you were young? No, but my uncle certainly did, and I always tried to grab a drink or so, you know, but it was difficult because all my aunts were there, and they were tattletale and my mother. Right.

He said, my mother. When you were young, you played with Tito Rodriguez. What did you learn about showman, and running a band from watching him. He was the one. He was the dandy. He was the dandy because no one dressed like him. How did he dress?

Oh, immaculately, man. You know, so hip and he was so sharp, the orchestra, old uniform, because he was the best singer that we had here as far as a Rumbero singer of an orchestra leader, and he had the preparation to do it, and he just kept improving constantly because of a competitive edge that he always had with Mr. Tito Puente.

If Tito Puente played vibes, Tito Rodriguez went to learn how to play vibes. It was one of those things that there was something that just irked him. But when I was working with him from the year 58 to 60, I certainly learned the tremendous amount from Mr. Tito Rodriguez, and may he rest in peace, but he knows that he's in my heart. What did you wear in the band? Oh, all different kinds of uniforms. Sometimes we look like waiters, you know, and they would ask us for a drink and that.

You know, and I would give him my drink and take the tip or something like that. The main thing is all tuxedos, but we worked because with Tito at that time. He went to Vegas, and we did Vegas, and he had a show. His wife was Japanese, and she sang, and he had a Cuban dancer, Malta. He was after that Desi Arnaz, Lucio Bo, movie. since he knew Desi, and he knew Lucille Ball because his wife also came from one of those show cabarets. But he was so sharp, you know, and he could dance, and the thing was, he could sing. Dime when you'll veras,

that I adore you so and so, no se you know, When you know what you'll notaras When did you When did you feel When did you feel ready to form your own band? 1960, after I left Tito Rodriguez, it took about a year. And then by 1961, I started different forms of orchestra.

But La Perfect, that started in late 61, which was the orchestra then that stood together for seven, eight years. And we had two trombones, flute, wooden flute, timbalist, conga, bass, singer, and I, it were the total of eight. Were trombones unusual for a Latin band? At that time, yes. They called us like the sound of the roaring elephant. So did, when people compared your sound to elephants, was that in praise? Oh, well, in praise and an annoyance, you know, it was a combination of both because we were playing up in the cat skills for three summers with that orchestra.

And that's a really commercial setting. And the orchestra certainly didn't belong there, but we needed to be there because that was the way we would be able to maintain our status in the city by being away for the summer. Like Machita would go to the Concord and Tito Pointe They would go to the president of the hotel In Lake and Swant Lake or whatever And we landed up in Cutch's Country Club And then I landed up in Browns And then I landed up in

Eventually in 65 in the Raleigh Hotel And that's where they called us the roaring elephants Now a lot of the hotels that you mentioned Had primarily Jewish clientele vacationing there Right, that's why I told you before Sometimes and most was quite annoying So were you used to seeing people who weren't Latin doing the cha-cha, the Mambo, and everything.

And I wonder what you thought of their dancing. Oh, no, of course, because in the 50s, I remember that the Jewish clientele was the clientele in the Palladium on Wednesdays. And what we saw was not only the Jewish clientele dancing to the most incredible dances that you can find, but you saw them all in Brando there. You saw him playing bongos with Tito Puente.

I mean, you saw things in the 50s you wouldn't believe. And then the Mambo with Tito Puente again and Tito Rodriguez, and Machito, these were great orchestras that the Jewish clientele followed. On Friday than Saturday in the Polydium was more Hispanic, and on Sunday it was definitely black. We had four different days there that we had four different unique ethnic groups coming to dance, and they all danced superbly. I want to play one of your classic recordings.

I want to play Puerto Rico. Oh, I love it. We just did that in Puerto Rico just now. Did you? Yes. Well, I'm playing an early recording of it, and this is my guest, Eddie Pamieri. his band, he's featured, of course, on piano.

What I'm in my mindingue in my mind. Isla little and precious about all the things. I maintain in my mind to your memory Puerto Rico. What stage were you at when you recorded that? Oh, I was in a quite an incredible

stage always with the economical pressures around you. But I found myself in Puerto Rico walking on the beach and looking at those, that beautiful ocean. And that's what the lyrics say. Isla Lina Bonita with Suaguas Bendita, you know, beautiful island with your blessed waters

surrounding you. So that's a special album and a special year you play for me. In Latin music, there's a lot of repetition that the piano plays. Is that called Montuno? That's exactly right. So... It's called, it's a Montuno part, but it's called Aguao. You'll hear like, boom-pip-pong-pim-pong-pim, that would be the Guajero that I'm using there,

and I'll use that. The Guajero's behind the percussionist because the least amount of harmonic changes in Latin is where we get the highest degree of synchronization, which is what you're after. We simplify the chord changes, and there we get what we call the masacote, which is the synchronization of the rhythm section and the piano and bass so that we're featuring that soloist that is showcasing himself or that I'm showcasing on the record or in live, you know, live presentation to the public.

I want to play something from your new album, Palmas. And you have a piece on here called Bolero Dos. Right. And it opens with an extended piano solo. There's no rhythm behind you in this piano, which is very unusual in Latin music. I mean, the rhythm never stops in Latin music. Well, I've always done that since the son of Latin music

that won the first Grammy. I just piano alone. Now, why do you go for that? Oh, I mentioned that before, is I love variations of a theme. And I know exactly what's going to come behind me, but it's such a beautiful melody that why not play with the, you know, piano first? And there's never been a piano opening or intro that has annoyed or not brought in an audience. So when you're in an audience that your rhythm can be complicated,

it's wonderful to hear a piano first. And we just, you know, like I'll just sip it in, you know, like by playing. playing piano, and then all of a sudden, then I'll go into my orchestra, and it's been very, very well accepted, and I love to do it, and it's more pianistic. So it's, uh, it helps me in my direction of getting to, to know my instrument better and better. Well, let's hear the beginning of Bolero Dos. This is Eddie Palmieri on piano. I'm going to be able to be. I'm going to be.

I'm going to be. We're going to be a lot of it. I'm going to be. Well, we could hear you growl on that song. I told you, I warned you. How did you start growling like that? Well, let me tell you what happened. My first recording, you know, we started to record years ago.

First recording, Allegra. And all of a sudden I see the owner walking with the engineer, and he walks in and I said, what somebody goes, what is that, you know, and what is what? You know, and we start looking for something that nobody can, you know, what is what? And we start looking, and sure enough we go back. to record it and comes back and what is that you know and finally he found out it was me so then

they didn't know what to do with me either gag me or put some kind of uh of yeah they wanted to gag me either that or put you know like cover the piano and they did everything with the piano until later on and the other recordings different you know and said let it be that's the way he sounds and and you know that's him let it go let it go what they're gonna do you know don't gag him You'd probably choke them. Were you aware of the fact that you growled before the engineer mission? Not like that. You know, it's really your proof is when you hear it back.

I said, what is that? But it's just, you know, it's that inner, you know, that spirit inside. And it gives me like some kind of an ambience for myself when I play. And it helps. And I just can't help, but it's just me. Eddie Pomeria, a pleasure to talk with you. Thank you so much. Thank you, my dear, Terry.

And I want to wish you the best in the city. your brotherly love, and now I have to talk it to you and sisterly love. Eddie Palmieri, speaking to Terry Gross in 1994. The influential pianist, band leader, and composer died Wednesday at the age of 88.

After a break, we revisit George Clinton on the occasion of the 50th anniversary of his classic mothership connection album. And I'll review the return of the Adams family TV spin-off Wednesday. I'm David B. In Cooley, and this is fresh air.

If funk began with James Brown, it was George Clinton who was responsible for many of the innovations in the funk music of the 1970s and 80s. He brought electronics into his rhythm tracks and used a guitar sound inspired by acid rock. Clinton created a funk empire which included the band's Parliament, Funkadelic, P-Funk, and the Brides of Funkinstein. Parliament and Funkadelic had the same musicians, but Clinton presented his more polished material through Parliament. Funkadelic was wild and improvisational and put on extravagant stage shows that incorporated science fiction plots and elaborate mythologies.

The musicians wore outlandish costumes and hairdos. In his alter ego of Dr. Funkenstein, Clinton sometimes made his stage entrance from a flying saucer. 50 years ago, Clinton's Parliament released the now classic album, Mothership Connection. Here's Give Up the Funk from that album, the band's first million-selling single. The plane's on and down, get down, there's a whole out of the realm going round. How we want the bump, get about the bump. How we need the bump, we got to have the bump. How do we want the bump?

Get about the bump. How do we need the bump? We got to have the bump. George Clinton and his partner. We're going to listen back to Terry's 1989 interview with George Clinton. Since then, he's released more than 30 albums, some under his own name. He had a hit in 1983 with Atomic Dog. Atomic Door!

Atomic Door! And light on my photos when they're up there walking the street. compete but it all a dog bough-w-w-a-bo-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-a-a-waw-waw-i-ebo-ebo-eeeeeeeeee undead-dogged dog society range your average

oh baby how why must I feel like that oh why must I change the kind I've got a dog and me. George Clinton, welcome to me. Yeah, I just got deep bleed and got the ticks off of me.

I got my doggy bag. And I'm going to go get my rabies shots and I'll be ready for him. How you doing, man? Okay. What got you back in the studio and on the road after five years? after five years? Oh, I got tired of laying up being the old dog and not learning new tricks.

I said, let me get back out there because when rap started getting heavy like it is now, I say, that's an old trick right there. I can do that. So here I am, back out here talking stuff. Well, I want to play the first hit that you had back when your group was called

the Parliaments. Oh, my God. You know, that was a big record in Detroit. That record broke right here in Detroit. I was back at the barbershop. I had given up for a minute. Well, here it is. George Clinton's first hit back from 1967, I just want to testify.

Just walking on me And it's taken me by surprise Happiness around me You can see it in my eye Now it was just a little while ago My life was incomplete I was down so dark From love that's done to look up at my feet

And don't you know that I just want to testify What your love has done for me Everybody's saying Oh, I want to testify What your love has done for me From 1967, that's George Clinton, the parliaments Well, sounds good to hear that again Yeah, it sounds really good

You were saying that when that record was a hit, you were working for Joe Bet, the publishing company of Motown Records. I once read you say that there was a lot you didn't like about Motown. You didn't like the idea

of everybody in the group dressing alike and doing the same steps. Not that we didn't like it. We loved it. But we just couldn't see ourselves overcoming the temptations

or the Pips. First of all, the temptation was from here and the criteria at that time was height, you know six feet matter of fact and they all were six feet and we were like five six two three you know we was all over the place it wasn't uniform and the routines and things we had perfect

and the suits of course we had perfect and the styles was perfect but there was no way to outdo the pips with the routine they were the best routine in group that I've ever seen and the temptation had the perfect image plus this was home for them so it wasn't that we didn't like it it was just no way for us to overcome the competition within the company So we just threw the suit. And plus it was hard to keep ties alike or shirts clean.

Anyway, that was the hardest part of all. And so it was convenient when we realized that hippies and rock and roll and blues was the exact opposite of what we had been into all our life because we could do this having fun. We'd wear the clothes bag as opposed to the suit. We'd take the suit out and throw it down and cut holes in the clothes bag and put in on. And it became just a big joke at first. first, but the music was always like very soulful, churchy, you know, like maggot brain, psychedelic, you know, nobody had seen black groups doing psychedelics to call us

temptations on acid, James Brown on acid, you know, but it was, it always worked. And so we just, you know, changed our whole thing and went that way. So we didn't, it wasn't that we didn't like the routines and things. It's just that it was convenient for us to go a different route. How did you start moving from singing to also producing and doing these really far-out rhythm tracks? I know you were always producing. You produced the Parliament's records, but it really became like a specialty of yours. Well, after I realized that it was going to take more than one group to survive and, you know, and make it. Any one group could be stopped any kind of ways or just be stopped because they're not good enough. So not only did it did

Parliament Funkadelic. We did Bootsie, you know, as an offshoot the brides, the horny horns, everybody that was in the band. So they gave me a lot of different outlets because so many members in the band can write and would have liked to have their own group but they didn't want the hassles.

And so I'm always continually cutting music and trying to keep another thing happening because when they say it's over with this playing an obsolescent trip, you know, if you ain't got but that one record, you've got a problem. Well, you not only have

a lot of different bands that you've created and produced. You also have different alter egos that you've performed under, like Dr. Funkenstein, Mr. Wiggles, Sir Knows. Would you describe one of your alter egos for listeners who haven't seen you perform? Okay, well, sir knows, you know,

I will never dance. I should never dance. Nobody can make me dance. I don't even make love. That voice, you know, harmonized on and made it real high. But the voice was actually, I was imitating one of the guys

that used to work in the barbershop or used to come to the barbershop all the time. He had, you know, all the girls liked him. He was real cool, but as far as I was concerned, he was crazy. You know, but he was a fun dude and everybody liked him. But most of the voice, I usually use a character out of the barbershop because, you know, the thing in the barbershop is to get up and tell lies. When I saw Sugar Ray fight Joe Lewis in 27, Richard Pryor always do it.

Those are the kind of things that always happen in barbershop. And I found that they work good on record. You know, like, make my funk the P-Funk. I want my funk uncut. All of those are, you know, slang that's used, like, in the streets or in the barbershop, and you find more of it in the barbershop than you do anywhere. So a lot of the characters were based on people who I know their personality was penetrating when I did it.

Dr. Fungestine was like an FM disc jockey, W-E-F-U-N-K, We Funk, Home of the Extraterrestrial Brothers, bringing you music to get your together, but, you know. And all of those things were like, just different, um, you know. Places I know that was penetrating, and I knew that the DJ was missing off a radio. They had started doing the cartridge thing. So the personalities that you used to hear on the radio, like, let me see. Attention on radio station jocks. You got to be serious slamming on my box, because when I try my best to get into the decibels,

up so high that my neighbors call the cops. So when the thing get to tweaking, you know, the groove is peaking. I mean harder than ascending the block. Okay, I know you know what I mean. I keep a party tweaking on my record machine, you know. And those kind of things or those kind of jocks is like missing off a radio now. And I figured, well, if I put this on Mothership Connection, it was the right thing at that time. And it's what most rappers tell me now that they got, or they learned rapping from, the Mothership Connection album.

George Clinton, recorded in 1989. His now classic album, Mothership Connection, is 50 years old. Clinton still is performing at the age of 84. Coming up, I'll review season two of the Netflix series Wednesday based on the famous Charles Adams' characters. This is Fresh Air. This is Fresh Air. I'm TV critic David B. and Cooley. In 2022, Netflix presented a new spin-off of the Adams Family Canon, focusing on the brooding, dark-haired daughter Wednesday. Jenna Ortega starred, the creators of the Smallville TV series originated it, and Tim Burton directed four of the eight episodes.

Now, they've all reunited for season two. Finally. To many longtime fans of the Adams family, the ABC TV series from the mid-60s remains the most memorable incarnation of the Charles Adams cartoon characters. Gomez and Mortisha were a bizarre but passionate couple. Their kids, Pugsley and Wednesday, were charmingly twisted. And their friends and relatives, including Lurch the Butler, Uncle Fester, and the disembodied hand known as Thing, all added to the hilariously haunted household. They're creepy and their cookie, mysterious and spooky.

They're all together rookie, the Adams family. Their houses and museum, when people come to see them, they really are a scream, the Adam's family. Charles Adams, who had been drawing these oddball characters since the late 1930s for cartoons published in the New Yorker, worked with the producers of the TV series to define the Adams family. He finally gave them names and also suggested some personality traits, essentially fleshing them out from two dimensions to three. The actors helped too. John Aston was an impish and roguish Gomez, and Carolyn Jones, with her long dark hair and form-fitting black dress, was the unlikeliest but one of the most

prominent TV sex symbols of the 60s. But since then, there have been the successful Adams Family movies, which starred Raul Julia and Angelica Houston as Gomez and Morticia. Those films were all but stolen by Christina Ricci as pig-tailed morbid Young Wednesday. And in 2022, the Netflix spin-off called Wednesday arrived. Gomez and Mortisha were still around, now played by Louise Guzman and Catherine Zeta Jones, but their appearances were little more than cameos. Instead, the weight of the narrative and the series fell to Jenna Ortega, the former child star from the Disney Channel's stuck in the middle. And she killed it.

When she came out of her shell at a school party and performed a macabre dance solo, the internet went crazy, and Wednesday became a big hit. So big, it's one of the most watched English-language Netflix series ever made, and already has been renewed for season three, even though season two has just begun. and it's begun with a vengeance. The show's popularity means that Wednesday has returned with even bigger ambitions. Series creators Alfred Gough and Miles Miller are back as showrunners, and Tim Burton is directing another four episodes this season. The three of them collaborated on Burton's recent cinematic Beetlejuice Beetlejuice sequel, and they've loaded up their return to Wednesday with lots of new guest stars and characters. Steve Busemi shows up early, playing the enthusiastic new principal of Nevermore Academy,

the boarding school to which Wednesday is returning after having saved it from destruction in season one. Wednesday Adams! Oh, it is an honor to meet the Savior of Nevermore. Allow me to introduce myself, Barry Doer, your new principal. Would you like a sticker? Only if you have one that says, do you not resuscitate. There's that wicked tongue I've heard.

so much about. I love it. I love it too. Tim Burton channels both his own past quirkiness and the spirit of such Alfred Hitchcock classics as The Birds and Psycho. The other directors match his game, the writing veers from very funny to a little scary, and other new cast members besides Busemi, include Joanna Lumley from Absolutely Fabulous as Mortish's grandmother, Billy Piper from Doctor Who and Secret Diary of a Call Girl as Wednesday's new music teacher and Christopher Lloyd is the school's head professor. That's all he is, a living head floating in a glass jar.

In the new season's second half launching in September, additional guest stars include Lady Gaka. These eccentric new characters add to the roster of returning old ones, including Fred Armisen as Uncle Fester and Christina Ricci, embodying a different role than when she played Wednesday on the big screen. But watching the four new episodes available for preview, the greatest joy has been the expanded screen time and emphasis

given to Catherine Zeta Jones as Morticia. The mother-daughter dynamic now is central to the story, with Morticia invited to live on campus as a school fundraiser, and with a subplot that has to do with Wednesday experiencing the same crippling psychic visions that once haunted Mortisha's sister, Ophelia. Mortisha wants to protect her daughter, but Wednesday is a rebel. In this scene, they confront one another, Wednesday exits, and then Gomez enters.

You're a dove. I'm a raven. We're on different paths. You said so yourself. I've had experience with ravens. Are you talking about your sister? You've never been very forthcoming about anaphaelia. You remind me a lot of her Especially as you've gotten older You don't need to worry about me, mother You should be focused on Pugsley

We both know being tall and male We'll only get him so far Besides, he's got the brains of a dung beetle And the ambition of a French bureaucrat What is it, Carita? Wednesday's high. hiding things from me. I will not let history repeat itself.

If Ophelia appears as part of the storyline in the future, I hope the producers of Wednesday will do what the original Adams Family TV series did. On ABC, they gave the role to Carolyn Jones, who played both the blonde Ophelia and the raven-haired morticia. It would be a delight to see Catherine Zita Jones's both sisters. On Wednesday, this season, she's already become the best morticia of the mall.

And Jenna Ortega, likewise, is now the best Wednesday. Season 2 of Wednesday premiered this week on Netflix. Coming up, Justin Chang reviews two films revisiting old comedies, new versions of The Naked Gun and Freaky Friday. This is fresh air. Two new comedies, both inspired by earlier hit movies, are now playing in theaters. The Naked Gun, starring Liam Neeson, is a reboot of the classic cop comedy franchise starring Leslie Nielsen. And in Freakier Friday, Lindsay Lowen and Jamie Lee Curtis revisit their roles from the 2003 Body Swap Fantasy Freaky Friday.

Our film critic, Justin Chang, reviews them both. Fewer and fewer mainstream comedies play in movie theaters these days. days, which is what I'd call a tragedy. In the post-pandemic era, the studios, figuring that audiences will only buy tickets to blockbusters and horror movies, have largely relegated laughter to the realms of TV and streaming. It's heartening, then, that the naked gun, a long-in-development reboot of the Leslie Nielsen starring police squad spoofs of the late 80s and 90s, has made its way into theaters.

Even more heartening, the new movie recaptures more of the movie. of its predecessor's spirit, the rapid-fire gags, the goofy slapstick, the non-sequitur silliness, than I would have thought possible. It stars Liam Neeson, which, given how close that sounds to Leslie Nielsen, is funny in and of itself. Neeson, who spent much of the past decade reinventing himself as an action star, here plays Lieutenant Frank Dreben, Jr., and yes, he's the son of Nielsen's Lieutenant Frank Drebben, Sr. Like his father, Drebben Jr. is a bumbling embarrassment, who works for the LAPD's elite police squad division.

Along with his partner, Captain Ed Hawkin Jr., a very good Paul Walter Houser, he's soon sucked into a cheerfully nonsensical plot involving a bank robbery, a dead body, and a sinister billionaire who owns an electric car company, played by Danny Houston. It's not the only detail that winks at current headlines. This drebben has to wear a body camera,

which mainly exists to set up an extended chilly dog flatulence gag that I probably laughed at harder than I should have. The movie was directed and co-written by Akiva Schaffer, of the comedy trio The Lonely Island. He sticks pretty close to the original Naked Gun template, even when he's sending it up, as he does with a quick reference to O.J. Simpson, a fixture of the three earlier films. Pamela Anderson fills the Priscilla Presley role of Drebben's love interest,

playing a crime novelist named Beth Davenport. Anderson is terrific here, whether she's scatting up a storm in a nightclub, or gamely committing to some crude innuendo involving Neeson and a turkey baster. And I haven't even mentioned the jealous killer snowman who tries to derail Drebben. and Beth's budding romance. Don't worry, I've spoiled nothing. It has to be seen to be believed. The Naked Gun isn't the only new L.A. set farce that tries to revive a durable comic property. Sadly, Freakier Friday isn't nearly as successful. Directed by Nisha Ganatra, it's a sequel to the superb 2003 Freaky Friday, itself a remake of the 1976 comedy of the same

title. In the 2003 film, Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsay Lohan played Tess and Anna Coleman, a therapist and her teenage daughter who magically swapped bodies and learned to love each other better as a result. Both actors return in Freakier Friday. While Curtis's Tess is still enjoying life as a therapist turned part-time podcaster, Lohan's Anna is a music manager and a single mom with a strong-willed teenage daughter of her own. That's Harper, nicely played by Julia Butters. Their family is about to get bigger. Anna is engaged to a dashing Brit named Eric, who has a teenage daughter, Lily, that's Sophia Hammonds, whom Harper can't stand. It's an awfully convoluted setup, and that extends to the supernatural shenanigans. For reasons

too tortured to explain, Anna ends up trading places with her daughter, Harper, while Tess swaps bodies with her future step-granddaughter, Lily. The result is a lot of screaming chaos. In this scene, the four leads look in the mirror and marvel at and recoil from their transformations. What is happening? It's me, it's mom. What are you saying?

So if you're me and I'm you, then who is that? I'm Grandma, sweetheart. Oh my gosh, I've died. I killed myself! She just has crevices all over her face. Look at the crevices! My hands look like doll hands. My butt feels so high.

I think I just peed a little. Oh. My face feels so thirsty and dry. My face is perfect. My face looks like a burkin pack that's been left out in the sunda rot! Why? Why do I have to pee again? The brilliance of Freaky Friday lay in its two perfectly balanced leads. Lohan, then in her teens, made a terrifically bossy mom type,

while Curtis, reverting to her teens, gave one of the best, most inventive performances of her career. But the second time isn't the charm in Freakier Friday. Far from doubling the fun, having four out-of-body experiences, rather than two, simply muddles the comic impact. Curtis in particular seems stuck in the one-note over-the-top mode of everything everywhere all at once, and the ageist jokes made at her expense get tiresome pretty fast. Lohan, though, is another story.

It's poignant to see her return to Freaky Friday, one of the films that made her a young star before years of personal struggles sidelined her career. She's lost none of her sharp-witted presence, or comic timing. But there's something else at work here, too. Because she's now playing a teenager trapped in a 39-year-old body,

she gets to both submit to and cheat the passage of time. Lohan is wonderful to watch, even if you can't always say the same about the movie she's in. Justin Chang is a film critic for the New Yorker. He reviewed The Naked Gun and Freakier Friday. On Monday's show,

actor Daniel Day Kim. He first became known for his role on the hit TV series Lost. He's now the star and executive producer of the new spy thriller TV series Butterfly. Earlier this year, he received a Tony nomination for his role in the revival of the play Yellowface, becoming the first actor of Asian descent to be nominated in the category of lead actor in a play. I hope you can join us. with what's on the show and get highlights of our interviews, follow us on Instagram at NPR Fresh Air. Fresh Air's executive producer is Danny Miller. Sam Brigger is our managing producer.

Our senior producer today is Roberta Shorak. Our technical director and engineer is Audrey Bentham, with additional engineering support by Joyce Lieberman, Julian Hertzfeld, and Deanna Martinez. Our interviews and reviews are produced and edited by Phyllis Myers, Anne-Marie Baldenado, Lauren Crenzel, Teresa Madden, Monique Nazareth, Thea Chaloner, Susan Yucundi, Anna Bauman, and John Sheen. Our digital media producer is Molly C.B. Nesper. Hope Wilson is our consulting visual producer.

For Terry Gross and Tanya Mosley, I'm David Being Cool.